


But baby that's how I want it

by thp_cara (TheHolosexualPan)



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Confessions, Developing Relationship, Emotions, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, and tango makes one (1) appearance, because he's feral like that and i love he, god i love them, i am soft too, impulse is still silly, soft, they just so soft, zed knows whatsup the adorable bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHolosexualPan/pseuds/thp_cara
Summary: Impulse thinsk he's missed his chance of making his feelings known, but perhaps Zedaph knows more than he lets on.---Sequel to 'Before I make a move'
Relationships: impulseSV/Zedaph (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	But baby that's how I want it

**Author's Note:**

> Because some people seemed to be interested in a sequel and because I'm soft as heck. You don't need to have read 'Before I make a move', the context is just _Impulse helps Zed get better at flying, Zed falls in water, sleepover ensues, Impulse has a CrushTM and decides to tell Zed in the morning about it._

By the time Impulse wakes up, Zedaph is already dressed and standing over him, hands held behind his back, a bright smile stretched across his lips that seem to light up his entire face, purple eyes glittering in the first rays of golden light that filter through the windows surrounding Impulse's sleeping area. He seems well-rested and giddy, almost bouncing in place, and his hair is  _ just _ a little bit tousled still, as if he’d only combed through it with his fingers and, Impulse reckons, he probably had. Impulse still feels a bit fuzzy with sleep, his brain not quite caught up with his own sudden wakefulness and his hands twitch where they rest next to his body with the wish to reach out and caress Zedaph’s smiling face, to maybe tilt his face just so and lean in, or perhaps to just pull Zedaph back into bed, his body missing the warmth of his friend already, but before Impulse can do any of those things, he comes back to himself and blinks, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels, but perhaps the way Zedaph’s smile softens ever so slightly before he claps Impulse on the shoulder and saunters away, grabbing his pack from Impulse’s chair with a firm grip indicates otherwise.

“It’s been a pleasure, Impulse!”, Zedaph says, quickly, excitement obvious in his tone and in the way he almost skips syllables, but there’s something more there, something Impulse can’t quite figure out and something he doesn’t get the  _ chance _ to figure out because, the next thing he knows, he is sitting up in bed, back a bit tense from sleep, and Zedaph is in front of him again, the expression on his face almost gentle, almost  _ hesitant _ and, before Impulse can ask about it, a bloom of concern taking root in his chest that reminds him, painfully so, of yesterday and of watching Zedaph plummet towards the ground while Impulse is helpless to really help, Zedaph continues, “I… You didn’t have to help me out, to take me in, but you did and...”

Zedaph shakes his head, eyes downcast, but before that concern can turn solid in Impulse’s mind, Zedaph’s brows furrow with determination, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in a way that is enough to distract Impulse from his earlier thoughts. And then it happens, catching Impulse by surprise, eyes widening and breath catching in is throat, face growing entirely red as Zedaph quickly leans down and plants the quickest and softest kiss, one that Impulse can barely distinguish as anything other than a brush of a petals against flushed skin, on Impulse’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

And Impulse can hear the newly returned smile in Zedaph’s voice, can feel the warmth of it as it makes him stop and stare back at Zedaph as the other waves and turns to the door. Impulse is shocked right into silence, gaze following the back of a brown cardigan and a mop of swaying strands of light blonde hair, as if his brain had short circuited, and, in a way, it  _ had _ . There is a shiver running down his spine, making Impulse bristle, but then Zedaph is gone and, as his base falls back into it motionless, peaceful state, Impulse’s mind starts working again, gears turning and turning and turning as realisations hit him, as hope and hopelessness twist into each other in his heart.

He hadn’t told Zedaph, Impulse thinks as he sits up, long legs, surprisingly, steady enough to hold him up, he hadn’t told him,  _ he’d missed his chance _ and Zedaph had left, just like that, after a few sweet words and after-

It feels like the world is sweeped right from under him, leaving Impulse to fall into the void of his own feelings, leaving him to tumble into the shadowy hell of his emotions and thoughts that spiral ever deeper, until they hit water, until they hit something that makes them stop. Impulse feels the way his hand unconsciously moves, fingers brushing his own cheek, a shaky exhale sli[pping past trembling lips as he thinks about the kiss, about how Zedaph’s lips had felt against his cheek, about how sweet zedaph had been, how he’d looked almost  _ shy _ before proceeding to turn Impulse’s whole world upside down,  _ again _ .

And so, Impulse doesn’t even hesitate, throwing a shirt on and going through his morning routine as best as he can while basically vibrating in place, body almost too slow when compared to the rush of the memory playing over and over in his mind, and soon enough, sooner than any other morning prior, he is off. Rockets leave sparks behind as he shoots them in a way that more so reminds Impulse of Grian and the way he spends rockets by the shulkerful where Impulse would only use a few, well placed boost of speed to keep him afloat, but it doesn’t matter right now.

Mentally, Impulse thanks whatever deity had made all three of them, Zedaph, Impulse and Tango, build their bases so close to each other because, soon enough, Zedaph’s mountain comes into view, a grand line cutting across the pink dawn, its gray painted in warm tones and the few trees scattered on top of it swaying gently in the wind, bt that isn’t what Impulse focuses, no, his attention is held by the small speck of a person moving through the almost orange expanse of sand beneath him. Before Impulse can think better of it, before Zedaph can actually reach his base, which would surely leave Impulse courageless, if he'd have even the minimal obstacle of a door in front of him, right now, he swoops down, his wings flaring behind him to slow him down somewhat and, distantly, Impulse thinks it might be better idea to lose some speed first and maybe  _ not _ die as he tries to confess to Zedaph but, as it turns out, logic simply doesn’t seem to matter right now, not when Zedaph turns at the sound of rockets, surprise visible in his beautiful, purple eyes.

“Impy, wha-”, Impulse can hear just before he meets the ground, but whatever else Zedaph had wanted to say leaves his lungs in a wheeze as Impulse all but tackles him into the sand, just enough reason left in his mind to make him spread his wings at the last second, the momentum still carrying over, even as he slows down, considerably, at the last second.

They end up in a pile of limbs and loud breaths and Impulse blinks the sand from his eyes, but maybe that had been a rash decision on his part because, when he looks down, the sight that greets him punches the breath right out of him in one fell hit.

Zedaph is looking up at him, lips parted as if he wants to say something, but his cheeks are red, the colour only seeming to extend until it looks like the blush has pinkened his entire face, only serving to bring out the purple of his eyes, light lashes fluttering a few times before Zedaph actually focuses on him and, when he does, it’s as though he melts in the sand where Impulse stands above him, his face breaking into a grin and his shoulders reaching his ears as he begins giggling, softly, at first, then uncontrollably. Impulse doesn’t know how to process all of this, isn’t sure what it means, isn’t sure how to stop his heart from hammering against his ribs in a way that is comforting in its pain, like the ache after a good stretch, or the feeling of stepping back and looking at a completed build after too many hours spent on it. 

“Zed, I-”, Impulse tries, but his voice breaks and he has to swallow, gulping down his nerves as Zedaph settle beneath him, eyes going soft as he leans further into the sand, his hands resting at his sides, but seeming almost tense, as if he wants to reach out but is waiting for something, “I… I wanted to… To tell you, before you left, just...”

But he can’t find his words, even as Zedaph’s eyes close, his smile turning into something almost  _ shy _ . Impulse looks away, preparing to just step back, help Zedaph up and run away. He’d been so determined to get the words out, especially after last night, had felt  _ motivated _ to do so, but now, as he is faced with the situation unfurling right in front of him, Impulse isn’t sure he can handle it, isn’t sure he can bear to see Zedaph’s reaction or deal with the aftermath. Impulse is sitting back on his haunches when the soft, warm touch of fingertips meets his cheek again and it reminds him of earlier this morning, of lips brushing the same spot, but they rub a speck of dust away and Impulse closes his eyes when the contact breaks, taking a deep breath. Another time. He’ll do it another time. Or maybe nev-

Before Impulse can get sucked into overthinking whatever he concludes Zedaph’s reaction might have meant, Zedaph speaks instead, and Impulse’s eyes shoot open, brown meeting purple as Zedaph’s words, soft, low, almost like a secret being shown to the world, vulnerable and new and unsure, slither around him and threaten to steal Impulse’s breath away.

“Impulse, hey, it’s ok”, he starts, gently, “It’s ok… Me too.”

For a second, Impulse is confused. Hope blossoms beneath the pining, beneath the secret of it, but Impulse is just about to stomp it down, wishful thinking not something he wants to indulge in for fear of the aftermath tasting more bitter than the dream of it had been, but then that same soft touch from before returns, hands hesitantly, at first, cupping his face and they’re  _ warm _ , but they barely have to touch him before Impulse looks down at Zedaph. They’re both standing on their knees now, but Zedaph has to cling to Impulse a bit to reach him and the thought makes Impulse feel like his whole face catches fire between Zedaph’s palms. It doesn’t help when Zedaph smiles at him, like he understands completely, and leans in slightly, the gap between them slowly minimizing, just like Impulse’s higher brain functions. It clicks when lips meet his and Impulse feels like everything around them disappears.    
Zedaph’s hands are so gentle when they move so he can circle his arms around Impulse’s neck and Impulse is almost afraid that if he touches him, the whole illusion will break, that he will just wake up in bed, alone, with ice eating away at his heart in a way that _burns_ , but nothing of the sort happens, not when Zedaph pulls back just so he can look into Impulse’s eyes, using his newly gained grip on him to pull him down, kissing his forehead instead, before bringing their faces close again. Their noses bump into each other, but Zedaph doesn’t kiss him again. He seems to wait, the tender look in his eyes and the little smile on his face making Impulse feel like he is falling out of the sky all over again, but the realisation sticks in his mostly  empty brain, and it makes Impulse move even as he still wonders if this is just another dream, despite the fact that it  _ feels _ real.

But Impulse’s arms wrap around Zedaph’s waist, and when they meet in the middle, it’s like the pieces of a puzzle come together. Zedaph lets out a soft, muffled giggle as their lips touch again, and Impulse finally lets go. He goes a bit boneless, but it’s ok, because Zedaph supports him as best as he can, even as he yields to the kiss, his smile something Impulse can still feel in the gentle affection between them and, distantly, Impulse thinks he wants to kiss that smile away, thinks he wants to kiss Zedaph until his breathing turns heavy and until he can  _ show _ him how he makes Impulse feel, lost, but welcoming the helplessness of it like the embrace of a lover. The thought makes Impulse hum into the kiss, but it only prompts more giggles out of Zedaph. They pull away and it seems like both of them have something on their mind, because they chime up:

“Impulse, I’ve always lo-”   
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you soo-”   
They stop and blink at each other. Zedaph’s shock melts into flustered excitement, but the surprise of it still lingers on Impulse’s face, even as his arms tighten around Zedaph’s middle, just a bit.

And then they smile. 

“Get a room, you fools!”

When they lean in for another kiss, the sound of rockets brings them out of it, as does the maniacal laughter that comes from a particularly speedy Tango, who seems to be rushing towards his own base, and though Impulse flushes, once more, suddenly timid because  _ oh God, they’re still out in the open, they’d had their first kiss and it’s just been in front of Zedaph’s base, laying down on some damned sand dunes and- _   
Zedaph’s bell-like laughter brings him out of it. It threatens to turn into a laughing fit, so Impulse just stands up, hoisting Zedaph up with him. They make their way into Zedaph’s base, even as Tango cheers them on, his volume embarrassingly loud, but Impulse just waves and gives him a genuine smile when Tango gives a thumbs up and zips towards his Toon Towers.

He cannot bring himself to  _ mind _ , not when he looks down at Zedaph as they walk side by side, hand in hand, because he-   
Impulse shakes his head.    
He allows himself to savour the moment, to let the heat in his chest wrap him in a blanket of warmth.    
They’re probably going to talk about it more later, but for now, Impulse is just glad to have Zedaph with him and, from the warm look he gives Impulse, the feeling is reciprocated.

**Author's Note:**

> Helo, I am still working on 'Until the stars all fall down', but classes be hard and I just needed some time to put some order in the plot points and lore before I went any further, plus, I can always use more zedpulse lmao


End file.
